


Skylines and Turnstiles

by godeatgod



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, Post RE2, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, im awful at tags sorry l o l, sad kissing lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25083856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godeatgod/pseuds/godeatgod
Summary: [Scorched and black, It reaches in and tears your flesh apartAs ice cold hands rip into your heart, That's if you've still got one that's leftInside that cave you call a chest, And after seeing what we sawCan we still reclaim our innocence?And if the world needs something better, Let's give them one more reason nowThis broken city sky, Like butane on my skinAnd stolen from my eyes, Hello angel, tell meWhere are you?, Tell me, where we go from here]
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Claire Redfield
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Skylines and Turnstiles

**Author's Note:**

> who said i dont think m/f couples deserve rights, anyway i really like re2 but i always wonder what happened between leon and claire when they get out of Raccoon

Claire sighed, tying up her hair, the darkness of the room not deterring her actions as it was almost robotic. She had a lot on her mind but no way to parse it at the moment. She had a plan at least. An idea of what she was supposed to do. Or what she thought she was supposed to do. She stared at herself in the dark mirror, all she could see of herself was illuminated only slightly by the moonlight creeping in from the window. 

The jacket she wore had been one she had wanted to use for spring, no sleeves, denim, slightly cropped even, it had been meant for joy riding in the summer. Her and Chris had recently finished painting it, as in the last time she'd seen him. 

She had to find Chris. It was about the only thing tethering her to any sort of tangible reality at the moment. Chris. He was out there, and she had a vague idea of where he might be and she mostly planned on finding extra hints when she got the hell out of the country. She didn't have a real plan but she had a gun and a goal and that's about all she was willing to think through at the moment. If she thought about anything else for any longer she’d probably lose her mind. Still she couldn't help but try and take a moment, just a brief glimpse at her situation before she left it. 

Raccoon City was no more. A handful of days ago it was decimated, wiped off the face of the planet by a nuclear bomb. One hundred Thousand citizens potentially still alive, gone. Just like that. 

She remembered all the bodies there. Maybe part of her had hoped someone could cure the infection, and they could bury those who died. Marvin came to mind, but she also remembered other S.T.A.R.S members who might've still been in the city. She wondered if the friendly faces she'd met there a handful of times had survived only to be annihilated by a missile, of if they'd succumbed to the virus, maybe some of them escaped. She hoped so but, really what right did she have to hope anymore?

Hope had no place in the world she found herself in in the past week. There was no hope in her knife and her gun, just assurance in her ability to use them. That and sure, a prayer that she may always land the hits she would need to. A prayer felt more allowable, it could always be denied. 

She slowly paced around the dining room, and then wandered more into the living room. Pausing again to consider her situation, she sighed staring forward blankly. 

In her pocket a drawing handed to her very tentatively by Sherry, a drawing depicting herself and Claire, Claire with a gun of sorts fighting off what could only be assumed to be Sherry’s father, whatever was left of him. Lots of eyes and weird limbs and her dad's head attached oddly to the malformed body eerily close to the real thing. He was crying. The tragedy and abject horror of something like this seen through the eyes of a child who rationalized Claire, and even Leon as she’d given him one of these drawings too, as a hero. Someone who was unchanging and strong. Clarie recalled this feeling in a sense, the idea of clamoring for anything solid and real in the turmoil of losing both parents traumatically. She hadn't been much older than Sherry, and all she’d had was Chris and though Sherry hadn't expressed it she recalled anger and resentment and chaos the entire time. Perhaps Sherry was more easily able to latch onto Claire and Leon for doing the impossible, the facade not yet broken. They'd protected her and saved her. Claire never had this delusion as she always knew deep down Chris wasn't prepared for what had happened. Chris wasn't a hero at that time he was still technically a teenager. Claire had resented, no, hated Chris for some time, trying to find a way to blame him for their deaths. She knew he remembered this too. Clarie didn't know which was worse for Sherry. 

Sherry was asleep now, in Claire's bed as she had been all week. She knew Claire was leaving of course but Claire still couldn't bear to say goodbye to her outright, she’d merely tucked her into bed and promised she would see her again. Sherry at least had not objected to being placed in her room as Claire and Leon had both pretty much taken turns alternating between sleeping on the couch and armchair. Sleeping being a very generous term for the two of them blatantly lying awake but not speaking. 

Eventually one or both of them would sleep but awake to nightmares or even just restlessness. They were both so alert all the time, she had briefly wondered if they could now qualify as war hardened folks, the kind afraid of fireworks, plagued by nightmares of dead comrades, filled with senseless anger and deep hopelessness. She guessed even if they did they'd be laughed at and scorned. Maybe that was partially why she wanted to find Chris, he would believe her surely. She wondered about Sherry, how would she handle any of this long term? Or Leon? What had he even been through all night? Claire felt very much like the three of them were the only people left in a world that made no sense anymore and she couldn't help but worry very deeply for them but desperately needed to get away and find that last connection to something that was familiar, her brother. 

She was in essence very glad that Leon was here. Much as she cared for Sherry she couldn't handle sitting here doing nothing but keeping her safe. She had to do something or it was going to catch up to and overwhelm her. Leon was here, and he alleviated her guilt about running off some. If she could trust anyone it was him.

Leon. 

Leon sat on her couch, in jeans that were slightly too baggy and a shirt that was slightly too small, all they managed to find that might fit him from venturing outside so he might have something to wear and they all might have something to eat. He'd thrown on a relatively larger jacket, she was sure it was just whatever had been in Chris' stuff he'd accidentally left with her during his visits or when they'd moved. Unfortunate that it seemed most of the other clothes really didn't fit Leon, he was taller and built differently than her brother, but Leon was not one to complain. Hell he didn't say much at all. 

Maybe it was that he grasped that bitching about clothes wasn't going to help the situation, or maybe he really didn't mind, or perhaps he couldn't actively think about something so trivial when his entire life had been blown up with the town the three of them had run from. It seemed likely that after they'd gotten back to Claire's apartment that the reality of the situation had set in. There was none of the confidence and assertion that they would get rid of whoever was behind all this. No he didn't seem to feel that way anymore. She glanced at him looking down at the floor, he seemed so lost in his own mind but not as though he were thinking of anything in particular. She could almost imagine the parade of images flashing in front of his eyes. What had he seen? She doubted she would ever get the chance to find out. 

Leons eyes, a cold white blue that seemed both dead and as though they were glowing in the dark. Eyes that were empty but not unlike how Chris’ eyes would get darker and haunted almost when he, for instance, had once went to describe the murder of a young woman the S.T.A.R.S. team had gone to rescue, only to find her head cracked open on a rock by a creek, all ten of her fingers missing. That haunted, horrible look of someone who'd seen something completely wrong, that nobody was ever supposed to see. Leon had the same expression, hellishly empty and pained, missing those other cues of what she'd seen in Chris’ face, but it was still obvious.

Leon had never expected to see something so horrible, nothing like it. She had to wonder how he could be so naive about the job he'd started to undertake. Chris was one to quickly bemoan and mutter his disillusionment with where he'd been placed in life, authority and rules were never his style.

Then again Leon didn't seem to be the rebellious type, everything about him screamed good natured camp counselor or college student who might ask how to find a book in the library. Someone who lived in suburbia and maybe didn't like it but could never think of anything different. Someone who had a lot to learn but who should've been able to learn it at an easier pace. She didn't think he was stupid no, not at all, but it didn't seem like he had any idea on how he was supposed to handle this. Granted, she didn't either, but Claire knew how to give herself a goal, a tangible goal, and Claire had someone important to her to fight for, really many people but specifically her only family. She didn't think that Leon had that luxury. 

The silence was cold and deafening. Claire was certain she was going to start hitting something with all the pent up emotion she had, whatever emotions these were she didn't know. She was angry sure, god she was so angry and someone needed to hear her anger and yet she couldn't justify taking it out on Leon. She didn't know him, but she knew he was suffering quietly. She felt as though he'd allow her to be angry, but he wouldn't be able to react, part of her suspected he would internalize it as blame. That was no use to anyone, and so all she could do was simmer in rage and all he could do was sit frozen with whatever emptiness he felt. 

Maybe it would be worth it to force him to speak. Or at least try and get him to, one last time. She'd tried. But between the two of them they couldn't have a conversation about this before. She knew if she wanted this she would have to set aside her anger for a moment to allow full attention to him and though that was difficult, she wanted her anger to fuel her later and to release it all into Leon would be a waste at best and soul crushing for him at worst. 

It was her last night here, so she might as well try.

"Leon." the one word, said quietly even, shattered the silence, she tentatively sat down next to him, a good foot away. 

"Hm?" His voice sounded far away and unfocused.

"What are you still doing up?" 

"Well. You said you were leaving. I..i guess i wanted to say goodbye."

"I am leaving, but...thank you." She turned herself more towards him, "are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah probably." He shrugged, he didn't seem so sure. 

"C'mon Leon. Now's not the time to lie to me." He looked over at her dully for the first time, his eyes seemed to stare right past her, off in the distance and he looked more glassy eyed and dead than ever before. 

“I'll be fine. For Sherrys sake.” he said eventually as though he had to think about it.

“What about your own?”

“I don't have time to worry about that.” he replied softly. She didn't have much of an answer or anything to refute him. 

“Right.”

“I uhm...i hope you find your brother.” he said after a moment, quickly glancing at her but looking back at the floor. 

“I will.” she assured him, the ‘i have to’ not said allowed but she sensed he was aware of it. 

“Good...i believe you really. If anyone can do it, it's you.” he said softly, she didn't know if she believed him but it really felt nice to hear it. 

“Listen...Leon i'm sorry for leaving you here like this really i-”

“No. don't be i…” he waved his hand, shaking his head when he interrupted, “you were always here just...i mean i was never part of your plan or anything. I understand. Whatever I have to do for Sherry I will. Like i said before i don't want you to worry about her.” 

“I know.” she nodded, quiet again for another moment. 

“y'know it's...it's funny. I make friends pretty easily but...I never figured I'd completely trust someone so fast. I don't know a damn thing about you.” she admitted to him, not sure why she had but giving him a side eye to try and gauge his reaction.

“There's nothing really worth knowing.” Leon shrugged with a humorless huff that was almost a laugh. “I'm just some guy. Nobody really.”

“C'mon...i don't think nobody would have been able to do any of that. You told me you blew up that fucking mosnster in the trenchcoat. I've never met anyone who i really think could have done that.”

“Hey i...i wouldn't have been able to do that without…” he swallowed and looked down, puzzlingly ashamed. She almost wanted to prompt an answer but he genuinely looked as though he might cry, and that emotion was so baffling to see on him. 

“You know i think...it might be that i just know that there's something kind of special about you.” she attempted though the sentiment wasn't one she thought would do much in the way of making him feel better. 

“Well if there is, I really wish there wasn't.” he replied rubbing his eyes slightly looking down but with that same almost humor present, as though he were attempting, and somewhat failing, to make light of his own hell. “I don't think there is though.” 

“I think you're selling yourself short.” there was quiet for a while, Leon seemed to be thinking it over. She wondered what he was thinking.

“Claire?”

“Yeah?”

“....y'know what, forget it.” he shook his head and she almost let it go as she wasn't sure what to do. but She didn't want to leave him hanging, not with herself having to leave him alone. 

“No...no Leon what is it? I want to hear it whatever it is.” she made eye contact and refused to let up even when he seemed hesitant and unnerved. He sighed softly, closing his eyes and frowning. His hands were shaking slightly.

"Claire is it...is it worth it to grieve over somebody who tried to let you die for their own greed?" 

She stared at him, genuinely unsure of what to make of that, sighing and looking away trying to tiptoe around answering, but deciding to deal with it the same way she usually did.

“Well...i don't really know. I mean that's really up to you, i can't decide that for you and neither can anyone else. But if you do, I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing.” she glanced at him and he nodded sighing himself. 

“Right. I don't know what to think or how to feel.” he sighed rubbing his eyes, “there's too much.” 

“Yeah. there is.” 

She came to the realization, maybe she'd already known, it wasn't about the zombies really. They were just monsters, horrible monsters, things she now saw crawling up the side of her home in nightmares that felt like daydreams, but just monsters. No this was about the people. The ones lost, the ones killed, the precious few survivors, and the guilty. It sounded like Leon knew one of the Guilty, and he had no idea how to deal with that. 

She wished she knew how to express to him that he wasn't guilty. 

Claire looked at him and really he was beautiful, handsome, soft and kind looking and that initial shallow attraction wasn't lost on her. It was stupid of course, in this situation this wasn't anything either of them needed to think about. Sometimes she hated how stupid her own mind could make things, as much as she’d love to indulge in the idea, in the easy base attraction. There was no time to worry about how handsome this man was or any other man or women or anyone else. 

“For what it's worth, Leon, I'm glad we’ve met. honestly.”

He looked at her, and she felt as though she couldn't parse his expression, she wanted to understand what he was feeling, she wanted to understand what she was feeling herself. She wanted to throw out any negative ideas of the world around them. 

“Thank you. I'm glad too.” 

They slowly moved closer, on instinct really. It was as if they would startle one another if they stopped or interrupted themselves or went any faster. Leon hesitated slightly but committed in the end, something that felt much different than any time before. She gently touched the side of his cheek and he softly set his own hand on her knee but tentatively as though it scared him to touch her. And it was so heartbreaking, their lips locked in a soft and horrid combination of sadness and suffering and yet trust and care and hope maybe. The weight of everything and everyone they'd both ever cared about crushing them from all sides

"I've gotta go." she murmured as they broke away, still unwilling to pull her hand away from his cheek. 

"I know. Be careful." It was all he said aloud, his eyes for once conveyed so much more but there was no way to say it outloud. Her hand fell away slowly from his face and he looked as though he wanted to lean in closer, as though he wanted to cling to her, and perhaps beg her to stay. 

There was a finality, she knew when she closed the door it would be over. What exactly? Well that was too hard to put to words but it would be done. Nothing more would come of it. Even in the rare and impossible chance of them both living to see one another again, there was nothing more to be done between the two of them. The bonding of their experience In hell wasn't enough to fix them, they were different people now. Maybe if they'd have met before this, as students, as peers, even as strangers in a public place they could've had something of a normal and happy relationship, one that didn't challenge either of them to fix themselves inside of it of anything but the same issues that plague normal people. They were too alienated from other people now, and they didn't have time to learn who the other person was now on top of relearning who they themselves were. 

Maybe in some years, maybe ten, maybe twenty, maybe then as real adults they could forge something, but the romance and passion of young love wasn't for them not right now and probably not ever. There wasn't any real tangible future at the moment for anybody anyways. How unfair the world was to take away something they both deserved just as much as their parents before them, to take away Sherry's childhood, to take away their infatuation, and mostly to take away innocence and ignorance, as though they didn't deserve such a luxury by virtue of being born and happening into the wrong place at the worst time. 

She closed the door with a soft click.


End file.
